


My Jewel; Verkwan

by Kimbap_Kid



Series: My Jewel [6]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hansol and Chan are bros, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Mentions of sexual relations, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Esteem Issues, idk if there will be smut though, maybe if i feel like it, oblivious idiots, we’ll find out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:47:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28661211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kimbap_Kid/pseuds/Kimbap_Kid
Summary: Seungkwan, the outcast with poor self-esteem, has beef with his crush. A misunderstanding at the beginning of the school year started everything off and now, with the completely accidental conflict, he knows his chances of being with him just went from 0 to -0. Even without these prerequisites, he knows it’d be a pointless fight; his crush is known to sleep around and if he sleeps with you, he won’t be doing it again. Why’d he have to fall for a man-whore?Chwe Hansol, the aforementioned man-whore, is fine with his title. After all, he’s positive his soulmate would never want someone like him anyway, so what’s the point in being a goody-two-shoes when his future is already screwed. But someone seems to catch his eye at the beginning of the year, and for whatever reason he just can’t shake him off his mind. And that’s scary.Will the idiots get together peacefully with no bumps in the rode, or did you look at the tags and already know it won’t be that simple?
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Series: My Jewel [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/983418
Kudos: 13





	1. i n t r o; Seungkwan

**Author's Note:**

> I love verkwan but I always make it so sad I’m so sorry I swear it’ll have it’s cute moments just let me self indulge a little ^^
> 
> There will be a lot of swearing and sexual implications in this work so please read at your own discretion!!

**Seungkwan’s POV**

Jesus, why am I so fucking fat? This is the question I ask myself daily, and, yes, I realize how depressing that is, but I feel it’s a great hint to my overall self. I've always had a chubby face and a big butt, so people call me "Fatty" or "Piggy", and they have ever since elementary school. I can see why they'd call me that. It's not like their words are false or untrue. Sure, there are some people who censor their thoughts a lot more and are sure to at least seem nice, probably aiming for more brownie points.The worst is when they try to say, "Oh, but you should really love yourself! It doesn't matter what size you are! Beauty comes from the heart." And I realize that they probably have good intentions or whatever they tell themselves to think they’re such a saint of a person, but that shit is . . . well it's shit, especially when you're training to be an idol. If you’re fat, you’re scum.

I mean, being all body-accepting is great; not body-positive ‘cause it  _cannot_ be healthy to be constantly hyping yourself up, and, I mean, everyone has days when they don’t like themselves and that’s okay, it’s just not okay when it’s everyday which is what I’ve learned I’m like. There's so many things I can find wrong with me body that it continues from one day to the next to the next to the next and it never stops. It’s not just my body though, like, don’t get me wrong, I  _hate_ looking in the mirror with a flaming passion, but it’s also with me in general. I'm too loud, like, it sounds like I have a megaphone implanted in my throat, like I’m always craving attention, which to some extent is true. My mood swings are fucking insane, it makes me feel so bad for my friends for even being around me, and even though they’ve reassured me that they don’t mind, that it’s just how am I am and that they love me . . . I just can’t help but despise that part of me. I'm clingy, which is another reason no one loves me, but the reason I cling is literally for their love, which is such ironic bullshit, it’s so bullshit it makes me wanna scream. These are just a few on the mental list I’ve created and trust me, it can just keep going and going. It's really depressing when you actually know everything wrong with yourself. I'm just waiting to find even more things.

I don't even know why I'm a trainee. Adding to all those flaws I just pointed out, I'm ugly, I'm fat, I suck at everything we're told to do, and I have no appeal. The thing that made them take me in was my voice; you don’t have to be pretty to be just a singer. I love singing. I love to sing for Grandmother. She passed, but I still sing for her, every time I visit her to change out the flowers or pick out the weeds from around her headstone. Why would I stop showing love for someone just because they're dead? If anything, I'll show them more love. Maybe I'll do that for myself when I die. My nana said I was the only person she loved listening to. I know it’s a lie, she’d have to love other singers too, but something about the way she said it made me believe I was definitely her favorite. I think that was true, and something about that feeling was so warm and addictive. Maybe that’s why I sung for her so much. I mean, I don't think I'm particularly good at it, but for her I’d do anything. Besides, they thought I was good enough, so it has to be somewhat true. Even if I don’t think I have a nice voice, why else would they ever accept me? Like I've said previously, I'm ugly and have no appeal and that along with beauty are very important things for idols. The point of an idol is to . . . well, to be an idol for others.

But being accepted has given me hope. If Pledis Education thinks I'm good enough, maybe my soulmate will think so too. God, I hope so. I need someone to show me love, someone to show me that I'm not as shitty as I think I am. I want someone to just be like, "You know, I, like, really love you," and for it to not be a joke. I know, I know, my self-esteem should not rely on another person, but I know it’d help a lot to hear those words from someone else. It’s like a boost, y’know? I probably won't ever find them, though. Most people don't. Sure, there are places where Jewels and soulmates don't really matter, but here . . . having a soulmate is like somewhat of a must in Korea, the ideal. Unrealistic expectations are nothing new to me, though.

Even though I'm not confident in almost anything about myself, there is one thing I love. My Jewel. My soulmate must be proud of their Jewel, too, if it’s the same as what I see. My Jewel is a light orange with hot pink and magenta; it basically looks like a sunset. It has a semi basic shape, though. The shape is that of a diamond, but there are two smaller diamonds on the side. I don’t really care about that, though. My Jewel is the one part of me that I will never hate; it’s a constant reminder that if I don’t meet them, there’s someone out there made just for me, someone who I love unconditionally without the knowledge of even their name or face or location. My Jewel is the only pretty thing about me. Is it the same for you, soulmate? Or are you insanely gorgeous? Fuck, I really hope you're not. It's not that I'm worried you'll outshine me, I know you will, that’s inevitable. I just don't want people to ridicule you for having me as your soulmate. God knows I go through enough of that as it is, I don’t want you to go through the same thing, too. 

If I ever do find my soulmate, I hope they're  at least  a guy. We're told not to hope for any gender because our soulmate could be anyone, but I know for a fact that I'm gay. It's not my fault that someone with boobs and a vagina doesn't appeal to me. If it is a girl, I don't really know what to do. Yeah I’ll be nice to her and we’ll probably get along, we’re soulmates after all, but it’d be something completely platonic. Plus, I already have this perfect image of my soulmate in my mind; he's tall and fit, he has soft brown hair, he has soft, kind eyes, high cheekbones, and a beautiful, perfect smile, the kind so contagious just think of it makes you break out into a grin. Looks aren't the only thing that matter to me, though. I'm not like that, especially after having been bullied so much for  _my_ looks. Above all he needs to be supporting and kind. He needs to help me, help me with my depression, my anxiety, my self-hate, everything. Jesus, when I list them out it makes me feel so much worse about myself. I could make a game out of this, like, "every time you hear me talk shit about myself, take a shot!" Something stupid like that. No, someone might die from alcohol poisoning or liver failure.

There's always this one guy I think of when I think of my soulmate. His name is Vernon or Hansol, I've heard him being called both but I don't know which he prefers. He's definitely super fucking gorgeous, it’s fucking intimidating. He seems like a total player, and he kind of is. He's always sleeping around with girls, from what I've heard, and, at the beginning of the year, I thought he for sure groped my butt. I've since realized that it was some random upperclassman, though it was a little too late. Hansol has tried to tell me so and he's apologized even though he did nothing. I always run away whenever he gets close because I feel so embarrassed and ashamed for thinking it was him, for just assuming that he’d do something like that. It makes me feel worse to ignore him since we have basically every class together and in basically every one of those classes he tries to say sorry at least once. He still hasn’t stopped apologizing, though. He would probably be a good soulmate. You know, if he would stop sleeping with everything that moved.

Like I mentioned, I think he’d be a good soulmate; he’s playful, but serious when needed, he likes to joke around, but from his relationship with Chan it seems like he knows when to stop and how to comfort others. I just don’t know if he could meet all of  _my_ needs. There's one thing I absolutely  _need_ in a soulmate; he has to make sure I eat. Ever since I started middle school, I've had eating problems. I know the way I eat is only making me gross and weak, but I don't wanna be made fun of for being fat again.

I skip a lot of meals. It started completely on accident; I was having a really bad week and when the weekend came I just stayed in bed all day, not wanting to move or feel anything. It was only at night when my stomach rumbled loudly, much louder than ever before, that I realized I’d eaten nothing. I felt so guilty for the accomplishment I felt from that, like it was something proud of to not eat three meals a day like a regular person. After that, I started out slow, skipping one meal, then two, then eventually I’d go full days, at most three at a time. I still do it. I skipped yesterday's meals. Well, I guess I didn't  _really_ skip them. I ate a whole meal with my friends, but I just moved my food around a lot and only ate nibbles of it here and there. It's been like this for a while now. It's obviously gotten out of hand seeing as three full meals is probably theequivalent to what I manage to spread out for an entire week.

The only thing I've eaten in this past week was a cup of yogurt and half a bagel, a salad, and five hot wings. It’s only the first two days of the week though, and I’m really, really trying to eat more, but I can’t help feeling like I still ate too much. I know there's something wrong with me, but I don't want to get any bigger. Even though I don't eat much, my face is still looks chubby to me and my butt is still fat. I'm a literal fatass. But since I've started doing this, my face has definitely hallowed out. It's not skinny but it's not as bloated as before. It's still not enough. I’m starting to think it’ll never be enough. It’s scary.

Soulmate, will you make sure I don't starve myself to death? I don't wanna stay like this. I really don't. I wanna be good for you, I wanna be good for myself. I can see how much it’s affecting me; it drains my energy, makes me depressed and agitated, and my nails are brittle now. I don’t know if I was more disgusted with myself then or now. I really wanna stop, I do, but I don't know how. Please give me the motivation to get help and a too. Please tell me that I  _can_ do it and that you’ll be there to help me. Please just make me happy, okay? I'll try to make you happy. You'll be my prince. I'll really cherish you, with all my heart. I love you. I’m so sorry.


	2. i n t r o; Vernon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vernon back story also sad, you’ve been warned (but also I feel like you should’ve gotten the vibe of this fic from the first chap but if you haven’t caught on then this is the warning)
> 
> ALSO!! Mentions of sex, no details, just mentions

**Vernon’s POV**

Life is shit. I'm shit. Everything is shit. At least, that's what my dad always tells me. I used think he was just being angry like always, but he's right; everything is shit and it’ll always be like that. That's probably the only thing he's right about. My dad is actually pretty smart, or at least he was. He had a doctorate degree in something psychology and a masters in something medicine, if I'm not mistaken, but I only ever heard from mom and that was a while ago. I guess all the shit we went through over the years fucked up his brain cells too much for him to really function as a decent human being, or at least one with emotions and rationality. 

There are many examples of my father's stupidity, many that have been ingrained in my head, stuff he repeats a lot. He likes to say I killed my mom. She died when I was born. Maybe it was something about the way I came out? Maybe I was very large? No, actually, it wasn't because I was an insanely fat baby or because I came out get first or something, in fact I was a pretty small baby despite being a week late. The doctors explained that it was because she’d always had a weak body and she used the last of her strength during the birth. Guess she never remembered to tell him that, so he likes to remind me a lot. He says I killed my sister, too. This is the one that’s totally irrational, at least with mom I guess if you’re delusional, you could connect it somehow, but he pulled this out of his ass. She was adopted two years after I was born, when he was still relatively okay. She was in our lives for ten years before we found out she was sick and ultimately died of cancer. He has no real explanation for either of his claims. How the fuck could I have killed them? I really think he just needs someone to blame, even though it hurt me just as much to not grow up with a mom, to watch the heart monitor stay a steady line as I stood by my sisters head, to grow up with an abusive alcoholic piece of shit excuse for a dad. I used to pity him, then I was angry, but, I don’t know, recently I’ve started thinking . . . isn't this normal? When you grieve you blame. He's just taking it a  _ little _ too far.

My dad wasn't always such an asshole. I think about it a lot, remembering the way he used to be. He used to be kind and comforting, someone I looked up to. He was one of those super stereotypical dads, that dad who tries being a "bro" with their kid. Sophia really helped. Three year-old me couldn’t understand it, but looking back I think she was what kept him up, having his own little girl and little man to cheer him up and praise him for being a good dad.

After what happened, he crashed hard. I don’t know how he was after mom, my grandparents don’t associate with us so they’ve never told me, but I don’t think it was as bad as when Sofia left. At first he was just distant, tell me to go play games or watch tv while he stayed in his room. I don’t know what he did in there. Probably cried, I remember crying a lot, too. Then around when I was thirteen or fourteen, he started drinking. He’d drink and drink, and when he would drink he would beat me. After he beat me, he drank more. When he drank more, he’d pass out. When he’d pass out, I snuck out. It was the loop of my life till I left for school.

The first time I did it I had no idea what to do, so I just went to a convenience store, got some bandages and candy, and walked around. I don’t know how long I was out, I just remember not wanting to go back to the scary man I didn’t know anymore. After the first few times, I developed a routine; get patched up at home, get candy, walk around and explore, then get home in time to put in my uniform and leave for school. Then I’d sneak out just ‘cause. Be honest, if you lived in the shithole we do and had to see that man everyday, I’m sure you’d be there as little as possible too. I wouldn’t say it was out of boredom, not completely at least, there was definitely more; repulsion, hatred, fear.

Sometimes I would sneak out to get laid, you know, like any other teenage boy during his rebellious stage (please read that with sarcasm for an  even _more_ enjoyable experience!). It started in a pretty stupid way; I think I was about fifteen and I saw a girl I knew from school when I was getting my classic Red Bull and skittles combo after sneaking out. I never found her particularly interesting, but she was pretty and she was flirting pretty hard, so we went behind the building. It was really weird. I’d never done anything romantic with anyone, the most I’d done was held hands with a girl during a school activity in elementary school, yet I wasn’t nervous. I felt numb. She brought me to the back with a sly smile, I’m sure trying to be as seductive as possible, and one thing led to the next and I found myself with her tongue in my mouth. Honestly, the kiss was terrible, it was sloppy and rushed and she had lipgloss on yet her lips were still rough and she kept pressing her boobs against me. But I guess it was exciting enough, being my first and all. We stopped after about ten minutes and just walked around for a bit before parting ways.

Apparently, she’d told a few of her friends who then told their friends and so on and so on until eventually it became publicly aware that I was basically a man-whore. It was so weird, it was my first kiss, even if it was intense, and yet everyone knew and started assuming the worst. I never denied it though, I didn’t care. I thought, whatever happens happens and if nothing happens, fine, and if something does happen, that’s fine, too. I never thought it’d lead me to sleeping around, but something about it became addictive. It didn’t feel good, the experiences nor the feelings that came with it, but it helped me cope. I don’t like myself, but I never knew how to make myself really hurt. It seemed to work pretty well, so I stuck with it. The feeling of shame and guilt that I felt after doing it, seeing my lover-for-the-night’s Jewel reminding me of my own soulmate, knowing I should only do this with them but that I’d never be good enough for anyone. It’s self-harm without visibly harming me. It’s selfish and cruel to everyone, but I think it’s what I deserve, so why stop now.

Now that I'm at Pledis Education, away from my dad and his beatings, I have no real need to sneak around other than to satisfy this part of myself, the part that wants to feel pain. I know it’s bad. I know people look down on me. I know it makes me disgusting. All of it makes me feel even more annoyed with myself.

So instead, I sometimes like to think of it as a way to just stop for a second. To stop living, just for a fragment of time, a time where my mom and sister aren’t dead, where my dad is happy and caring, where I like myself. Sometimes I really wonder what would happen if I stopped. What would happen if I ended things here. To be completely honest with myself, that old fucker would probably sell my Jewel. He'd sell whatever he'd need just for a hit of whatever he’s addicted to at the time. It's not like I'm suicidal or anything, it's just something everyone thinks about, right? There are some times when I just don't give a shit, but that's not depression. I'm not depressed. I'm really not.

I don't wanna talk about that stupid shit anymore. So I'll skip it and get to what I love. I love my Jewel. God I love it so much. So,  so much. It's really pretty; I’m not one to care about how a Jewel looks, but the way it looks like a swarm of warmth and passion and love and like home . . . something about it makes me cry. It makes me feel happy. It reminds me that there's someone out there for me. There's someone out there who I can love, someone out there to love me. Everyone here is obsessed with finding their soulmate, but I don't really care if I never meet them. I used to, i used to be obsessed with having and finding a soulmate, knowing I’d never deserve them, but that I’d if could just see them, talk to them, touch them, that I could just do those things that I’d make it all up to that, I’d make them my world. I realized over the years that I’m okay with just the thought of them. I mean, if fate wants to bring us together then fine, but if not, what difference does it really make? I doubt I’d be enough anyways.

Hearing the way I talk about my soulmate, like they’re the sun I revolve around, like they’re the one who hung the stars in the sky, like they’re the only other person in the world, you’d think I’d be a good, faithful person for them. It’s probably bad that I’m not. I know I should "remain loyal" to that person and stop sleeping around, but sometimes I just need to not think, or need to hurt myself, anything. Having sex with a bunch of random girls and occasionally a guy helps with both and everyone knows the what to do when you have two birds and one stone. Besides, if we're meant to be then they'll realize I have no interest in those people. They'll know that I love them and them alone. Even then, I still know it's not right. I know I’m just making excuses at this point, anything to help me feel better for being a terrible person. I should just stop. I’m disgusting.

Most people assume I'm straight because I sleep around with so many girls, but I’m not really picky. I know I’m not straight, I think I'm probably bi. I mean, I have a preference towards girls, but I'd be fine with a guy. Just 'cause I like girls more doesn't mean I'm automatically straight. I just wanna love someone. I have no one to love and it surprisingly sucks ass.I never knew how lonely it could be to not love anyone romantically. Sure, I have a friend or two whom I love, but that’s pretty much it. Hell, I don't even love myself. Sure, people tell me I'm very good looking, but that doesn't matter. I don't even think I'm very handsome, not ugly, but handsome feels like a stretch. Actually, I used to get teased for it, not my face, but for my race. People would make fun of me for being mixed race, calling me a mutt and barking at me. This particular group of boys thought that played out joke was hilarious and gave me many fun gifts over the year. I can’t remember if my favorite present was the collar, or leash, or dog bowl, or poop bags. They said no one would like me, let alone love me. Maybe they were right, seeing as I've never been in an actual relationship before. As far as I can tell, people only want what’s in my pants.

There's this one guy, though. His name is Seungkwan. He's easy to remember ‘cause he's super sassy, beautiful, has a big butt, which I'm guilty for staring at (but I never feel very guilty), and he has these adorable chubby cheeks. He's the guy who slapped me and called me a piece of shit on the first day of school during an assembly. He’s very funny that way, I really like it. If I ever marry him I'll have to tell our kids that story, like, all the time. I think it was because some asshole groped him or slapped his ass or something and he thought it was me. But either way, it makes for one hell of a story.

I think I like him. I think I like him because whenever I see him, I remember that time and how his face got so red his cheeks reminded me of cute cherry tomatoes and how he looked like he was going to cry, his eyes glossy and his bottom lip caught between his teeth to atop its trembling. I remember how he stomped off all the way to the other side of the room. I remember how shocked I was and how I held my stinging cheek, his soft hand making quite the impact. I remember going to the bathroom shortly afterwards and seeing a red mark on it, rosy and flushed with the beautiful color he created. I remember all these things and it makes me smile.

I'm not a sadist or anything, not too much at least, but seeing him almost cry was one of the best things I have ever seen in my life. I swear I’m not into making guys cry or anything, but it was honestly one of the hottest things I’d ever seen. I could go over it all day; his cheeks were red and puffed, his eyes were wide with embarrassment, shiny with the new tears being picked up by his long lashes, his lips quivering and pink, biting them so hard I though they’d split, and if they did what it’d be like to run my tongue over the bead of blood that’d form- I mean,  _Jesus Christ_ , how could I not like that gorgeous image? Maybe I  am a bit more sadistic than I thought.

He never talks to me, though. I've tried explaining to him that I didn't do anything to him that day, but he just runs away to his friends, probably scared of me. We have most classes together. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, I think we have all but one or two class together. I always look at him. I like the way he looks when he’s concentrating, the way his brows come together so slightly, how his tongue sticks out when he’s thinking, how his leg is always shaking. I've seen him with his friends and he seems to be really funny, always getting a loud rouse out of them. I like seeing him randomly, in the library (whenever I rarely find myself there), or the bathroom, or in line in the cafeteria, his expression always the same when he spots me; it’s something so consistent, yet I have no clue what to call it. He's basically all I'd ever want in someone. His soulmate is super lucky.

I wonder if my soulmate is lucky. Probably not seeing as I’m me, but who knows. I wonder if I'm lucky. I mean, my soulmate might be a murderer for all I know, someone crazy. My soulmate could be an abuser just like my dad. I shudder at the thought every time it crosses my mind. Love, will you be nice to me? I'll be nice to you. I'll love you for forever. If you need me to save you, I'll try. I'll need you to save me too, though. I love you, I love you so much, more than I could ever find the words to tell you. Please love me. I love you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pls pls pls dont hate me for the angst THEYLK BE HAPPY TOGETHER I just need a little spice in between ^3^ If you have any constructive criticism, it is very appreciated since angst isn’t really a strong suit of mine ^^’’
> 
> TYSM FOR READING AND SUPPORTING!!! Your support motivates me greatly ty ty ty !! ><


	3. o n e ; Seungkwan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seungkwan x Hansol angst?? Idk not really but uhh they eat lunch kinda !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!WARNING!! there are slight mentions of bullying and poor eating habits (they’re not in great detail but they’re there so just in case!!) 
> 
> Seungkwan’s POV

_Fuck_ . I've found myself saying that word a lot lately. When I bite my tongue or stub my toe. When I realize I've gained a little bit of weight again. When I see a really cute guy. When I'm staring at Hansol and we lock eyes accidentally. When Hansol tries to talk to me. When Hansol leans a little too close to me and shows off that  _fucking_ smile. Maybe these scenarios aren't all very comparable, but I still say fuck in every one of them.

Now is also a good example. Hansol, being Hansol, is trying to talk to me. Trying very hard seeing as I'm avoiding him very intensely, but what's new? He also has a girl clinging to him, trying to get his attention. Probably another one of his one night stands. I really shouldn't be jealous of her, but I am. It's so dumb; I wanna avoid Hansol at all costs but I also have this desire; a desire to talk to him and joke with him and touch him and be with him. Crushes are so dumb.

"Not now, I'm busy," I hear him say to her, his voice stern. She seems annoyed and storms off to her actual classroom, her bleached hair swaying as she stomps. He sighs, clearly upset with the encounter be he turns to look at me, his expression suddenly much softer and brighter. I look down, my phone becoming suddenly more interesting by the second. God, I just hope my face isn’t as red as it feels.

He walks over to me, hope in his eyes. He probably just wants to get in my pants or something. Probably not since I'm me, but it's not like he's showing any other reason why he wants to talk. Then again, has he ever really tried to get with someone like this? Isn’t it usually him being pursued, not the other way around? He sits in his seat, which just happens to be right next to mine for this class, and taps my shoulder lightly, the same cheerful smile in his face.

"What do you want?" I ask harshly. I've had a crush on him for a while now. In the beginning of the year I was groped by some douche and thought it was Hansol. Obviously, with that being the situation it was and me being the person I am, I ended up slapping him only to realize it wasn't him later on. Even now, I feel so terrible and awkward around him. It makes sense for me to believe that the only reason he wants to talk to me is to ultimately get with me. I'm not attractive by any means, but that's the only explanation I have. It’s probably my ass.

"Don't be so harsh Seungkwannie!" He laughs like saying that nickname is a normal thing, but Jesus it really isn’t and more importantly it really, really shouldn’t feel so nice to hear someone other than my friends give me an affectionate nickname. "I just wanna talk. You . . . ,” he takes an uncharacteristic pause, scratching his nape uncomfortably, “I know you have some thoughts about me, everyone does. You probably think I just wanna have sex with you and then leave or something."  _ Pretty much _ . "I don't really care about that with you though."

_Ouch_ . I feel almost offended. The way he said it makes it seem like he can't even imagine wanting to do those things with me. I feel hurt. It's dumb, and I know it shouldn’t affect me, but I still feel it. He sees my reaction and immediately says, "That's not what I mean! I'm just saying that it's not really, like, my number one priority with you. That came out wrong," he rambles. He seems so frazzled, so different than his usual self. Or at least the version of him people talk about.

"I don't know how to explain all of this now, can we talk later?" He gives me a crooked smile that makes me wanna slap him and kiss him at once. I shouldn't be falling for him so hard. He's not good for me. But maybe I can try having faith in him.

"Sure. When?" I ask. He seems to light up when I answer. He’s so surprisingly simple, but in a good way, like a little kid.

"Lunch?" he asks excitedly. He's a lot cuter when you start to actually talk to him. I never expected that.

"Maybe," I say unsure of myself. I don't want my friends to see that I'm hanging out with him. I'm not ashamed of him, I just don't want them teasing me. They know of my crush and love to constantly poke fun, quite relentlessly so, and lord knows how embarrassing it’d be for him to know. A small part of me thinks of the humiliation of his sure rejection, but pushes past to a more pressing issue; if he eats lunch with us he'll see how little I eat.

He sighs and takes out his notebook. I stare questioningly as he rips out a piece of paper and rips a smaller piece from the one he tore out. "Pen?" He sticks out his hand as I scramble for a pen or pencil. He starts writing on the paper, clearly rushing now that the teacher is preparing for class, and hands it to me once he's finished.

Just then the bell rings, signifying the start of class. I take the note hurriedly before opening it. Inside is a phone number with a small note underneath reading, " _Text me later when you have the time ;)_ " in very sloppy handwriting. I look up at him to see a light blush coloring his cheeks despite the bold note, which would explain why he's not looking anywhere near me. I’ve seen him do and heard him say far more suggestive things, so why does this rather innocent note get him riled up almost as much as it does me? He really is adorable.

\- - -  
  


The bell rings again after two more classes. As I close my notebook I think to myself, time for the most dreaded class of all time. I hate lunch. I hate it so, so much. I hate my friends worrying about my eating habits. I hate shoving around my food for thirty minutes straight. I hate the loud noises suffocating my ears with sound. It's all just so annoying. Sure, I understand that my friends are just worried (rightfully so, but I’d never admit it out loud), but hearing their complaints everyday quickly transforms concerned words into tiresome complaints.

I pack my things slowly, postponing the time for as long as possible, when Hansol comes from across the classroom. He strides confidently towards me with his hands shoved in his hoodie pouch, and I look down in my bag praying what I think will happen won’t. He probably wants to sit with me at lunch still and wants to ask. I wait anxiously for him to reach me, but his friend catches him before he has the chance. I’m not sure if I’m relieved or disappointed.

I quickly make up my mind when Chan basically throws himself onto Hansol, though this is more jealousy than disappointment. Why does he get to be so close to him? Why does he touch him so freely? Maybe he likes him? I'm not sure, and I really shouldn't care. It doesn't concern me. I don’t care.

"Hansol! Please kill me already! Ugh, I had to deal with Seoyeon flirting with the teacher in my last class. It was actually the most disgusting thing ever! She was all, 'teacher, I'm gonna a little  _help_ with this later,' and, I mean, that’s gross right? I don’t know why she can’t just keep it in her pants for one day." Hansol just laughs as Chan starts fake gagging and ruffles his hair.

By the way Chan reacts I don't think he likes him. He swats his hand away before yelling at him, telling him not to be so touchy and to not mess up his hair, though Hansol only giggles more at this. To be honest, I'm pretty surprised by his action. I've seen him be touchy with Seungcheol before without caring. I guess Hansol is different, or maybe the other way around. Still, why that touch so intimate? So friendly? Again, it doesn't concern me.  _I don’t care._

I turn away and walk to the cafeteria, somehow finding my friends in the sea of teens. They always sit at the same table so it's easy to spot them. Soonyoung randomly bursts into laughter, probably from something Seokmin said. I notice Minghao is missing as I sit down, a twinge of unease making its way into my stomach.

"Guys, where's Hao? He's usually here before me, right?" I point out, still worried about him. Minghao is the type of person who is surprisingly punctual and serious. Sure he has his funny moments, but it’s cute knowing how big the gap between his forced cute image is compared to his much cooler personality. It sucks seeing him unable to truly express himself with all the cool fashion trends, but that’s what we get for choosing to be idols; we never have as much freedom as people may think.

Seokmin glanced towards me before diving back into his smiley-faced French fries, answering, "He stayed behind to ask the teacher a question. He's struggling with some words he doesn't know, but we all know he’s not gonna give up ‘til he really gets it."

I feel bad for him. Minghao has always worked very hard, but there are just some things he can't seem to understand as easily as he hopes. He's gone through so many tutors, but only one really had an impact, and he stopped tutoring him a while ago. Speaking of the tutor, he seems to be looking around our table for someone. Weirdo, he could at least  try to be less obvious.

"Hey." I almost yelp as I feel a soft grasp on my shoulder, hearing a low voice behind me that’s so easy to detect, even over all the noise; Hansol.

"I told you not to sit with me at lunch," I say as he takes a seat on my right, across from Seokmin. Seokmin has always been the type to think the best of others, and I guess Hansol isn't the exception seeing as he gives him a friendly nod that I know to be genuine. It’s a bit surprising to know that he and Hansol are actually pretty well acquainted, not enough to be friends, but enough to be friendly.  _Maybe it’s ‘cause they have the same birthday_ , I think absentmindedly before mentally shaking my head.  _Why am I so creepy that I know when his birthday is? Gross._

He shakes his head playfully, his smirk ever so present on his lips. “Nope, you only said ‘maybe’, and that only means you’re not sure, therefore me sitting here is just me making the decision for you,” he concludes with a smile. I hate that smile; he gives it to everyone and it’s so easy to see that it’s forced. I think what I hate most about it is that he gives it to me, too.

“Yeah whatever, just try to be decent for the next hour and a half.” I see him deflate a little and quickly say, “I just mean don’t just sit on your phone texting girls or whatever; if you wanna sit here you should at least engage.” He tilts his head and his small pout is replaced with the most satisfying reward of a true smile. It’s small and honestly barely there, but at least I know it’s real.

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Minghao interrupts and sits on my other side, greeting the others and eyeing Hansol before taking out his lunch. His mom always makes really good food for him every week. I guess he'll never feel too homesick, the smell of traditional Chinese food around him everyday and his own family only two train rides away.

"Hey, Hao, that's the really good tutor you had right?" I ask while subtly pointing to him, not wanting him to know I'm talking about him. Popular upperclassmen can be intimidating sometimes. Seokmin is somewhat popular, but mostly for his family's reputation and his personality. Besides that, isn’t it just weird to see someone randomly pointing at you while whispering to their friends? Knowing from experience I know that, yes, it is weird.

Minghao looks over to where I point and nods. He seems drained. I hope it’s not what I think it is and instead blame all the schoolwork he has.

"Why do you ask?" he questions softly, deciding to eat his lunch rather than look up at his former tutor.

"Well, he's always looking at you and today he was looking around for you since you were late," I explain. He perks up. Knowing how he feels about him only makes me feel more pity for him. _I wonder if that’s how I look when I think about . . ._ .

"I'm going to the bathroom," he says abruptly before leaving. My gaze follows him all the way to the doors of the cafeteria, his long and lanky figure skating by other in haste. Maybe I pushed too hard.

A finger taps my right hand and I suddenly remember Hansol. Why does it feel so natural to have him so close next to me that I never even questioned how close he’d gotten in the first place? I look up to him, noting how his eyes look more like a honey brown in the sunlight compared to the usual equally warm chocolate brown they hold. He’s leaned in so much that I can see ever small detail of his face, so close I could count all of his long eyelashes if I had the time.  _He’s so pretty_. He leans in slowly, enough for me to back away or push him off, but I don’t.

He whispers in my ear, "Please pay more attention to me. I'll get jealous if you don't."  _Fuck_ . I don’t need a mirror to know my face is ten shades of an embarrassing red. I can practically feel the steam from the tips of my burning ears, Hansol’s breath lingering far longer than I can handle.

I shoot up from my seat with the back of my hand to my mouth, saying something about the bathroom before I rush off. I can’t bring myself to look back at Hansol’s burning gaze that sets me on firing with just the knowledge of it. I can’t bring myself to care when I walk past a group of more popular people and hear them snicker about a tomato. I can’t bring myself to think rationally as I storm into the bathroom, rush into the first open stall, and sit on the thankfully lidded toilet. All I can hear in my head is the loud question I have not a clue the answer to.  What the  fuck was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MY BAD FOR BEING GONE SO LONG!!! Idk why it took so long for this chapter but something about it was really hard for to write lol, I guess it was kinda hard getting into seungkwan’s mentality? I’m not really sure but I hope I did good enough ^^’’
> 
> Please let me know what you think and as always thank you so much for reading and supporting it always means so much just to know people are reading and liking what I write so ty!!! :)

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry I made them so sad I PROMISE THEYLL BE HAPPY... eventually
> 
> Ty ty ty for reading and supporting this work and series!! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated ^^ <3


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